


Stiles Isn't Home

by Olsies



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pack Feels, Puppy pile, mom feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1262194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olsies/pseuds/Olsies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Do… Do you… Do you know where you were…” Stiles started then stopped.  “Do you know where you were ten years ago?”</p><p>---</p><p>In which Derek tries to lessen Stiles's pain by talking about his mom too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stiles Isn't Home

Stiles had been laying on the couch, not facing the TV, and not moving for over an hour. Isaac was getting worried. He wasn’t asleep, he could hear him sniffling, and his heart wasn’t beating like it did when he was sleeping. Isaac had never seen his friend _not move_. He was usually bouncing with energy; he’d been known to trip over nothing. Isaac took a deep breath, and clicked off the PS3. He turned to say something, but Stiles was getting up. He looked wrecked. Isaac didn’t know what had gone wrong. They’d been hanging, playing video games, then all of a sudden… Stiles wasn’t home any more. Stiles began pacing around the small dorm room.

“Stiles?” Stiles looked up, like he had forgotten Isaac was even there.

“Do… Do you… Do you know where you were…” Stiles started then stopped. “Do you know where you were ten years ago?” Isaac raised his eyebrow.

“I-I don’t follow… Do-should I call Derek? Or McCall maybe?”

“No need,” Derek said slipping in the open window. Stiles turned, and his whole face crumpled in on itself as Derek indicated for him to come hug him. “Leave,” he said to Isaac. Isaac didn’t even put up a semblance of a protest. He grabbed his keys and wallet and walked to Allison’s room. She and Scott were stretched out on the couch, half-asleep watching _House of Wax_ for the millionth time. Allison saw Isaac’s face and started shaking Scott’s shoulder.

“Sit up…” She said sliding down the couch and making room for Isaac in between them. Isaac sat and clutched tightly to Scott’s hand while Allison paused the movie. “What happened, baby?”

“Stiles… I-I don’t-”

“Oh!” Scott said loudly. “Isaac, it’s not you… It’s nothing you did. It’s the ten year anniversary of Stiles’s mom--he’s not alone, right?”

“No,” Isaac said. “Derek kicked me out…”

“It’s not you,” Scott said, nuzzling him a little. “Derek will let us know when he’s ready to have a puppy pile.” Allison laid back, pulling Isaac on her. He shifted and Scott spread over his back, a safe and heavy weight.

“Stiles’s mom is dead, right?” Isaac asked.

“Yeah, sweetie…” Allison said running her fingers through his hair.

“Ok…” Isaac said as Scott put the movie back on.

***

Derek held tightly to Stiles. Stiles was sobbing, snotting all over Derek’s shoulder. He knew that if he didn’t get Stiles to calm down soon, he’d start puking. “Shh… It’s ok… I’ve got you. I’m here,” Derek found himself saying, running his hands along Stiles’s neck. He hated himself for having to leave Stiles earlier, but everyone was exhausted from patrols, there really was no one else. “Let it out, Stiles, let it out…” Stiles wailed, clung to Derek, not caring if this scared him away. Finally, he took some deep, shaky breaths and relaxed into Derek’s hold.

“Why isn’t it-why doesn’t it-when does it get easier?” Stiles gasped, coughing a little. Derek took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Let go for a minute, Stiles,” Derek said softly trying to pry his boyfriend from his shoulders, which of course only made Stiles cling harder. “I’m going to get you some Kleenex. It’s ok. I will be right back.” Eventually Stiles consented, pulling his legs up under his chin. Derek went to the bathroom and started pulling off some sheets of toilet paper, and thought better of it. He unclicked the dispenser and brought out the whole role, handing Stiles the loose pieces first.

“Sorry I snotted on you,” Stiles said wiping his nose.

“I don’t mind,” Derek said kneeling and pulling Stiles’s legs down so he could rest his head on his boyfriend’s lap.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” Stiles said, running his fingers through Derek’s hair.

“Once, when I was about five, my little sister got really sick, and I wanted Cherry Kool-Aid, only my mom was too busy to make it. I don’t remember where everyone else was, but I decided I was big enough, I could make it myself. I must have filled the pitcher half full of sugar, and most of the Kool-Aid ended up on the counter, but I made it. My mom didn’t even know that I was doing anything I wasn’t supposed to until I dropped the pitcher and jumped off the chair to clean up my mess. I, of course, landed on some glass. Sliced my foot open. My siblings thought I was dying because I was covered in the juice, but my mom just scooped me up and carried me into her room. She-she was so nice. She didn’t yell, wasn’t even upset that I broke her favorite pitcher. By the time she got me to her room, my foot had healed, but I was still crying. She put a Flintstones bandaid on the spot I’d hurt myself, and rocked me for a few minutes until I calmed down. It’s-it’s one of my favorite memories of her…” Stiles sniffled a little. He tugged on Derek’s long arms, trying to pull him to the couch. There were few times that Derek talked about his family, and fewer that he talked about his mother. Eventually Derek was laying on top of Stiles, nuzzling into his chest, and humming low under his breath.

“I used to hate thunderstorms,” Stiles said. “When I was little I would burrow in my parents’ bed, pressing my face into their soft t-shirts. Eventually, my dad stopped letting me come in bed with them. At first, my mom would just lay in my tiny bed next to me but eventually she started just rubbing my back until she thought I was asleep. One night, it was really bad. My dad must have been out in the storm, on duty or something. My mom came for me with a flashlight long before I’d run into her room. She took me in the basement, and we lay on the smelly futon for hours, just listening to the storm. I’d never been so scared, or felt more comforted… I knew my dad was out there helping people, and my mom was inside holding me. When the storm finally blew itself out, my dad came home with homemade doughnuts and coffee he’d been given by a family he had helped that night… That was the first night I really saw my dad as somebody important… I mean, more important than _just_ being my dad.” Derek laced his fingers through Stiles, kissing the knuckles gently.

“I don’t know if it ever gets better,” Derek admitted. “How do you measure the lifespan of pain?” Stiles rubbed Derek’s back, tangling their legs.

“I don’t know if I want it to get better or not…” Stiles said. They were silent for a few minutes. “My dad texted me, to check in. He was drunk. He didn’t say, but I could tell. I should be there for him, taking care of him. Making sure he eats his vegetables…” Derek took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Stiles, you do realize that vegetables will not make your dad immortal…” Stiles stiffened.

“Yes, thank you. I am perfectly aware of the fact that I cannot protect my father from death forever… That-that’s not my intention. My mom… she was so good at taking care of us. She did everything, and she knew-well I hope she knew how much we appreciated it. She-she made me promise to take care of him… I mean… well, I’m not sure she knew _who_ she was talking to, but she kept asking that her boys were taken care of…”

“I didn’t know that,” Derek said quietly.

“Scott doesn’t even know-I never-” Stiles’s voice cracked. He played with the hair at the nap of Derek’s neck. “I’m just tired of feeling guilty and angry about it. I was a kid. There was nothing I could have done…”

“No…” Derek agreed. “Nothing you could have done…” They were quiet for a few more minutes and then Derek grunted, lifting his head. “The pack will want to come in now… If you want-if you’re ready,” he said. Stiles nodded. Derek grabbed his phone and sent off a few text messages. Within minutes, Scott, Allison, Isaac, Boyd, Erica, Lydia, and Danny arrived with popcorn, light-hearted kid movies, and all of them were wearing their pyjamas (except Isaac who changed quickly). They pulled down the mattresses and shoved them together, shoved Derek and Stiles in the middle and piled on top of them. Derek held Stiles tight, kissing away the tears when they came, and nuzzling him when they stopped. One by one, the members of this different, this not-quite-but-totally-real family fell asleep. Stiles lay there, surrounded by them all, and he realized that the storm of his childhood was nothing compared to this, and yet he’d never felt like he was in in more capable hands.

**Author's Note:**

> This one is for me, Stiles, Derek, Allison, Isaac, and anyone else who lost their mom when they were too young.


End file.
